


To the Green Stars, I send up my grievances

by TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos



Series: The Clans that make up the Stars (short stories) [2]
Category: Original Work, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: (not sure if it works but its one of the tags i'd inteneded to add), A Very, Again, Angst, Detatched narrative, Drowning, Original Warrior Cat character(s), Original Warrior cat clans, Past Character Death, Potentially self-harming behavior, an apprentice made warrior missing their mentor, because I spelled it wrong up there, i think, kind of sad, semi-purposeful drowing, somewhat experimental, vague religious uncertainty, very sad cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos/pseuds/TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos
Summary: Fridgedbounce mourns her mentor with the tact of someone unsure how to mourn.- Alternatively,Fridgedbounce tries to mourn. There isn't anyone there to say whether she does it well or not.
Series: The Clans that make up the Stars (short stories) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1223285
Kudos: 1





	To the Green Stars, I send up my grievances

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a oneshot set in one of my warrior clans. Remiss as I am to say, the clan this takes place in is called Earthclan. And yes, the other surrounding clans also steal the naming format from Avatar: The Last Airbender, not that they're featured here. If you cringed a bit reading that, feel free to just call it Mountainclan, or something.
> 
> Unlike most stories, I ask for no criticism, if any to be given, on this one. It's just a touch too personal, and was written in part as a vent peice. (Odd wording is likely as intended. Spelling errors are fine to point out, though.)
> 
> (I'm just realizing it, but yes, Fridgedbounce's name isn't really spelled right. Like, at all, now that I'm looking at it again. However, I like the length and look of 'Fridged' rather than as it should be, with 'Frigid,' as it's had many months to grow on me. It's been like that since her character was made, which may have been more than a year ago at this point. So that's likely how I'll be keeping it. Just keep that in mind, please. There are names spelled weird in real life, why not warriors?  
> :))

Fridgedbounce sat at the foot of the largest pool, fairly deep and stained turquoise by liquid-esk stalagcites.

She draws in a silent breath through barely parted teeth and holds it, just for a moment, lets it out just as soundlessly through her nose.

She'd like to talk to him. She'd like to speak into the flora-lit tunnel, into this star-speckled puddle, and know that her words were heard. She wants to know if he's proud of her.

This isn't the first time she's been here, surely not the last. Maybe, maybe it's finally the time where she can say something. Her mouth doesn't open. Her eyes are angry and damp. Her claws dig slow white marks into the stone.

She didn't speak when he'd fallen asleep, she didn't speak when she'd looked hard at his still body, hard at his chest that was supposed to move. She hadn't spoken at the last time she was to see him in the flesh, before he was taken by the earth.

She hadn't been sure he would hear. And if he wouldn't hear, then there was no reason to speak.

And yet.

She wanted to. She wanted to speak- she wanted to talk. She wanted to tell him about her name, how he'd inspired it. About the friends she'd actually managed to make. How his family was hers now, how they'd welcomed her in without hesitation. How his siblings were doing, that they were all sad, but okay.

But how much it would hurt, if she brought her words to the surface, only for them to part and flow away, heard by her ears, and her ears alone.

The water ripples, but there are no fish in these pools, but an earth roar would not reach this deep without warning, but nothing from within has touched these waters.

Her eyes are wet.

She doesn't speak into the air. She can't. Not today, maybe not tommorow. Her lips quiver.

She leans down slowly, every inch encroached an inch that her body must be forced not to take back, and touches the tip of her nose the glowing pool. She takes a deep breath, breathes in the scent of rock-water and earthy dampness, and plunges her head beneath.

She doesn't remember closing her eyes in those quick moments, but they have to be opened all the same. The water is clean, but her eyes feel murky, unused to the conditions. Her ears are full and muted, the entire world is quiet, undisturbed. Her eyes idle on the submerged up-facing rocks. Lumpy and pretty at once. Her claws pressed on dry rock, damp rock, pushing her forward.

She sinks to her shoulders, mid-back wet with her movements, water failing to lap however as she stills, untapped to the ocean's wave. Her forepaws brace on the wall that she'd lean against were she sitting. Her lungs ache. She holds herself, balanced, back and front braced, soaked and dry, sunken and docked. She opens her mouth, feels the water flood the opening, her paws labored, tastes the sediment on her tounge.

She mouths the words, no air to be wasted, her own ears unable to hear.

_I named myself Fridgedbounce, after you._

Her unheard whisper, into the light waters. Contrasted by her imidiate scramble from the pool as her lungs demanded oxygen, and force her to pull breath.

Her forepaws slack, and her backlegs bunch and leap backwards, hastily and ungracefully pulling her from the water.

One paw lays curled against her one the shore, water-logged and still streaming, the other underneath the sand, limp and lazy, embracing the waters, spasming untimely through it. Her tounge touches the water while the side of her head lays flat, her own panting disrupting the quiet.

She doesn't know if he might have heard, but if he didn't, then at least in that, they are the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Below is a very old endnote that I originally wrote when I'd finished this. I'm leaving it, but you don't have to read it. It's just a personal note. (While I don't much want criticism, I'd likely enjoy hearing your thoughts, if you have any to give.  
> The only other thing present-day me wants to say is: Be happy, be safe, grieve healthily, and love yourself. Even if only a little.)
> 
> [Tried to make sure that I've still got it, and I certainly do. Wanted to be creative about Fridgedbounce's complicated experience with grieving. It's based off of how I reacted when my grandmother that I've lived with for the majority of my life passed away. Complicated emotions, and uncertainties about religion, and it came out in this. Fridgedbounce believes in The Clan of Stars, but in a distant way. Same with me and Christianity. Sure, we'd like to think it's real, but we also can't ever truly know. We can't really know if our family made it to the afterlife they deserved, (and truly believe in, in my grandmothers case; god rest her soul) only hope.
> 
> But speaking aloud in the face of that afterlife is hard.}  
> -  
> {Be happy, be safe, grieve healthily, and love yourself.]


End file.
